A green thumb unfulfilled

I've been a little confused and perplexed by my garden.

My tomato plants have grown, I thought to quite good heights. They even had blossoms, until they shrivelled up, taking bloom, leaves and stem with them, leaving no sign of a tomato behind. It didn't look right but since five plants did that, I thought it must be normal.

My only hope for fresh tomatoes. If you look closely at my red in/yellow out tomato there are still some blooms in tact. For now.

My eggplant, well, it's taking it's time, too, it seems. And for someone who just wants to be able to harvest something from their garden and proudly proclaim 'I grew this myself' to her cats when she serves herself what would be the most delicious dinner of all, it's been agony.

Still, I've tried being patient. I worried I was doing something wrong. Then I blamed the weather. Then I didn't know who or what to blame and figured this was just how my garden grows.

Well, I got a reality check last night when Linda had a look and made this diagnosis: my stagnating tomatoes and stunted eggplant aren't getting enough sun. No worries, though, she assured. She was growing lots so I was guaranteed some tomatoes this summer.

In my CSA basket.

Vegetables need full sun, Linda told me.

C'mon, there's got to be something that doesn't. What about rhubarb? That stuff grows like a weed, I said.

Nope.

Is there anything that can grow in my garden, a place where the sun has come and gone by 3 p.m., I asked hopefully and ruefully all at once.

Hostas, Linda said.

Here comes another sigh.

Idiot-proof, part-sun, part-shade loving hostas appearing in gardens everywhere. But white and green and brown and purple tomatoes, no way.

Ever since getting a house with room for a garden, I've looked so forward to growing some food-producing plants. To me, there's a greater sense of accomplishment than the survival of plant that's virtually impossible to kill. No offence to hostas. They're nice but they'll never be dinner.

Since when do gardens need sun? My garden as of July 13, 2009. As you can see, hostas and stonecrop are thriving.

On a brighter note, at least I didn't do anything wrong. Well, save for the fact that I planted my tomatoes in a shady garden.

I did harvest a few leaves of chard growing in the same sunlight-deprived garden to eat in a frittata tonight. But apparently it's progress hasn't been quite as stellar as I thought either.

I can already picture the ornamental grasses taking their place next year...